I've Been Quiet For So Long Novels & Stories

It is also because of this monstrous personality that when taking a break or at lunch, everyone invites everyone to go together, only me is silent alone, no one has any intention of inviting me to go with me, which I have just heard just want quiet. Today as usual, when everybody went to eat together, the room fell into silence, to the point where I could hear my own breath. I wasn't very hungry, so I leaned back, leaning against the back of the chair, gently closing my eyes and feeling this rare peace. No more laughing or scolding, that is really quiet... quiet.

LENA The hardest thing about being alone was the quiet. For the past few weeks, I had been surrounded by silence, save for the occasional sounds of my children playing or the tap of my fingers on the keyboard as I tried to rebuild everything from the ground up. The emptiness in my heart was growing, but I was determined not to let it break me.

Marcus Silence is a funny thing. You think you want it, until you’re staring it in the face and it’s not peace at all. It’s absence. It’s unanswered texts and calls that don’t come. It’s Sophia retreating into a version of herself I can’t reach. I tell myself it’s fine. I tell myself people get busy, that she has a life outside the orbit of mine, that not hearing from her for a day isn’t a tragedy. But I don’t believe myself. Not really.

Other times, she tried encouraging herself that those jerks do not deserve a single drop of her tear. Her body felt heavy, like it didn't belong to her anymore. She lost her appetite,the food had no taste. She nibbled on whatever was closest,dry bread, a biscuit, a cup of water. Her stomach hurt, but she ignored it. Pain had become normal. She didn't check her phone. She already knew what she wouldn't see.No messages,no apologies,no explanations.She had cut them off completely, and with that choice came silence. A deep, lonely silence that wrapped around her like a blanket she couldn't escape.

Inside— I stay silent. Not because I don’t want to answer. But because, for the first time in a long time… I’m not sure myself.

Richard squinted at me, his bloodshot eyes struggling to focus. "There she is," he slurred. "You deaf now?" "No." "Then why'd it take so long?" I had a million answers for that. The first would be because I was enjoying the silence. The second would be because every second I spent away from him felt like a gift. Third would be because I was trying to remember what peace felt like, and so on and so forth. Instead, I forced a smile. "Sorry." His expression darkened immediately. "Don't give me attitude."

Kim Pov. The silence is the worst part. Not the kind that lingers after a fight or a long day. This is the kind that hollows out your chest. It seeps into everything—the walls, the sheets, the spaces where his laughter used to echo. I’ve called him. Texted him. Begged him to talk to me. Nothing. It’s been a week.

I was starting to resent what he used it for. I wrote about it on the blog that night. Not directly – never directly. About loving someone who speaks fluent silence. About the difference between a man who's quiet because he's at peace and a man who's quiet because he's built a soundproof room inside himself and locked the door from the inside. About wanting to break in and knowing that breaking in would shatter the only structure keeping him upright.

I'm suing you for trampling on my privacy! Her eyes were blazing, like she was clinging to the last lifeline she had. I gave her a cool, measured look, a slow smile playing on my lips. "Seriously, are you clueless, or have you been goofing off so much you can't even remember your own actions?"

She was quiet. "I sent you that message two weeks ago," I said. "You didn't reply. You didn't block the number. Fourteen days of nothing." I looked at her. "I couldn’t figure out what the silence meant from that house. So I came here. I needed to be where you were. That’s it." A long silence. "You're an idiot," she said quietly. "That's right." "You're injured. You sat through forty minutes of that meeting. You tilted twice."